A slow descent into madness

Tag Archives: the past haunts

You hold a profoundness in
your eyes; I know there’s
something locked behind them,
and I intend to decipher it
someday because you will
open yourself to me as we
pry open our chests and
exchange hearts.

I know you have questions,
but you seem never to ask
as though you have no words,
or you’re waiting on me to
tell you what lies within.
Or maybe you don’t want to know.
Are you fearful of what you’ll discover?
You flip past the pages,
evading the piecing-together of
these fragmented chapters.
And maybe it’s better this way.
I am a chronicling of dangerous
hearts, but mine is the
most dangerous heart of all.